The Enemy Within: Investigation
category:Classic OtherSpace Logs category:Classic Political logs category:Classic New Luna Militia logs category:Classic New Luna logs category:Classic Underworld logs ---- Landing Bay :This incredible chamber sports almost a square mile of poured plascrete, all watched over by a high communications tower. Most of the ceiling of this chamber is of a lightly buzzing blue energy, allowing ships in and out with a minimum of atmosphere loss. Cheery lighting fixtures line the walls in stark contrast to the otherwise utilitarian nature of the bay. There is a set of double doors near the back of the bay, manned by half a dozen armed New Luna Militia members. ---- Lucius is walking through the landing bay at a lazy pace, rifle slung over his shoulder, despite the fact that he is off active duty. His feet direct him towards the shuttle bay and it appears, due to the box of ammo he holds in one hand, that he is going to be doing some PT and shooting. Neven walks through the lobby, he looks a little uncomfortable in his military uniform, his rifle is balanced a little awkwardly. However, as he walks towards the lobby he starts to a little more confident in his kit. Lucius turns around as he hears another pair of clanking boots and rifle shuffling on fabric, to spot Neven behind him. He stops, eyes knitting inwardly a bit. "You know, ordinarily I might reprimand you for being out of uniform with a rifle, Private. Ordinarily. Since I'm not on active duty, I don't have that privelege." He grins. The engineering section of the Hyena, that's been something that's been floating around for the last few days. Generally just not co-operating with the efforts of the salvage company to bring it in. The tug manages to bring the salvage through the energy field and sets it down upon the landing bad. Both Lucius and Neven are in the landing bay Lucius leaving the lobby, Neven approaching it. Lucius looks like he's going to do some training, Neven's just looking uncomfortable in rig. :Calliope Debris :Pitted and damaged, that could be the easiest way to describe the state of repair of what used to be the aft end of this black Calliope freighter. The insides of the aft section of the ship, note that this once contained a fully operational engineering section. But these days, it's just a section of loose wiring, a destroyed reactor and spin drive. Nothing salvagable from this mess. On the wall there hangs a plaque, not saying Hyena at all. Rather Triumph. Volouscheur makes her way down the ramp of the latest shuttle up from New Luna, in uniform and with her rifle strapped across her back. She looks around, trying to see if she can spot anyone. Lucius shrugs to himself and turns towards the shuttle again, which has just gotten into the bay. What else has just gotten into the bay? Well, that'd be the aft part of the Hyena. Or, more accurately, the Triumph. Lucius, placing down his box of ammunition on a nearby crate, approaches this, curiously. Volouscheur makes her way over towards Lucius, offering a feeling of greeting to him once she's close enough. Neven opens his mouth to respond to Lucius, but shrugs as he moves past and continues towards the Lobby. Lucius strokes his chin at the piece of debris. "This musta been the part of the ship that our boys blew off the other day.. the one that burnt up in atmo." Comments Lucius, waving Scheur over. "Didn't the news say the IND Hyena? This is the Triumph." He points at the gold lettering. Well, there Lucius and Scheur'd notice that their are some rather large holes in the ceiling and roof of the Triumph. Also, that there isn't any signs of plasma scorching on the panels. But there is something fluttering on the inside, that survived being lost to vacuum. Volouscheur glances over towards Neven, but ignores him for the moment. She nods to Lucius, ~It did say the Hyena, yes.~ She tilts her head to one side, a streamer of apricot winding around her torso, ~Why would someone call it a different name?~ Black, pitted and, well, screwed. Three adjectives that describe the Not-the-Hyena. Lucius certainly is right with the name, it might look like the Hyena. But that gold painted word, it says something completely different. Lucius squints at the aft piece of the Calliope class freighter. Then, he notices something fluttering. Damn, that can't be right. He blinks. And notices something fluttering again. "Ah, Dii Immortales." Unslinging his rifle he clicks the safety off. A trigger happy Martian. "Come out?" He yells into it. As if that will do something. The click of a safety being released somehow reaches Neven as he nears the lobby. He turns back and see's Lucius with gun drawn. "What the hell..." He says, doubletiming it over the the area. Volouscheur notices the fluttering. And then she spots a piece of paper fluttering down from a passing soldier. Being the contientious person she is, she bends over to pick it up and tucks it into a pocket - presumably to dispose of it in the proper area, rather than leaving it lying around where someone can trip on it. Then she glances at Lucius, unshipping her rifle from her back, although she leaves the safety on for now. Flutter, flutter, flutter... But what ever it is doesn't come out out of the remains of engineering, dispite Lucius' warning. Sure's peice of paper is picked up, and the unknown soldier continues onward, most likely not even knowing that they dropped it. Lucius is hardly concentrated on a little piece of paper dropped on the ground. His stance lowered defensively and rifle held tight, he edges forward towards the engineering, 'slicing the pie' so to speak. That is once he's reached the corner which the thing is around, he sidesteps until he has a clear sight of it. "Probably nothing.." He mutters, feet shuffling. Volouscheur moves to Lucius's side, dimming her aura and following just behind him. She's silent for now, shrugging faintly at his mutter. Neven stops near the two of them, and unslings his own rifle after he notices Volo doing it. He clears his throat to let them know he's there before falling in behind Volo. It certainly isn't anything, perhaps just a peice of toilet paper... Well, it's too big for that. Unless a peice of toilet paper has something written on it, and is the size of a peice of A4 paper. It becomes detached form its perch and slowly flutters towards the deck of the Triumph, landing near the middle to be honest. Looks like someone's going to have to go in to retrieve it. Lucky for Lucky. He visibly relaxes at that and lowers his rifle a bit. Letting go of its foregrip for a moment he waves the other two marines to follow him and thereafter moves into the interior of the Triumph, presumably to get the paper. Interesting that the paper survived attack from three Jackhammers. Nor that theres any plasma scoring on the ship. These two factors keep him wary of.. something. Volouscheur follows after Lucius, remaining silent for now. Neven isn't glanced back at, Scheur seeming focused on what's ahead of them. Well, upon getting closer. Lucius and co would notice that the peice of paper is the remains of a letter and is hand written on NLM paper (complete with letter head). It reads; :Dear Jayna, :These Captialist pigs have no idea what we're doing, or that we've managed to infiltrate them. It's funny to walk through the corridors of their orbitting fortress and stalking around engineering. :I've got one Sargeant eating out the palm of my hand. :The rest of the letter is smeared and smugged. It might be possible repair it, if the right technique was to be used. Lucius, 'Scheur and Neven are currently looking through the remains of the 'I-can't-believe-it's-not-the-Hyena™'. Lucius breathes a sigh of relief, shouldering his rifle and cracking his neck. Upon seeing that the fluttering object is no more than a paper and certainly not a nefarious Space Critter ™ out to get him, Lucius stoops down to pick it up. And reads it. His eyebrows knit together, this time in anger. "What. The. Fuck." Volouscheur moves to look over Luc's shoulder (quite easy when one is over a foot taller), frowning, ~...why would someone /do/ that?~ Her 'tone' is confused and rather hurt. The Zangali dutifully walks over to the remains of the ship where Lucius, Scheur, and Neven are congregated. He doesn't, however, seem all that interested. As a matter of fact, he busies himself picking his nostril with a stub of a finger. Volouscheur glances away from the note, blinking as she spots something behind the reactor. She moves towards it, ~Sarge, do you know where Urf is? I think we might need him to get this out..~ "They're dissatisfied with the system. They wanna work from the inside. They think they're doing good." Lucius says in response to Scheur. "Like every revolutionary. Whoever this is.. is working for the same people who killed the two Council members and sent that message." Lucius scoops up the paper and carefully folds it in his pocket, making sure not to smudge it. He turns around. "Right there." The Martian heads towards Urf. Dirionis comes from the shuttle, slowly stepping out and raising a brow at the small gathering. With a shrug, his curiousity gets the better of him as he walks over. The Zangali hangs back as he eyeballs the debris on the deck. He doesn't seem to feel the need to comment, though, as he eventually plucks the stubby digit out of his nostril. Neven's chrono ticks off and he looks down at it. "Crap, I was supposed to report 20 minutes ago." He slings his rifle again and, after shooting an apologetic look to Urf he starts jogging for the lobbby. Volouscheur offers a feeling of greeting to Urf, ~Chief, could you come in here with us? There's something we need you to help us get...~ "Chief, we need your help with something." Without any more words, Lucius turns back around and walks towards the debris of the Triumph, face as expressionless as a stony statue. Dirionis approaches, raising a brow at the debris as he nears. " Uhhh..." He stares dumbfounded. "What?" asks the large lizard as he shifts the pulse assault rifle cradled in his arm. He does follow Lucius towards the debris. He may be as confused as Dirionis looks, but it's hard to tell. ~There's a thing stuck between the reactor and a wall. I think you can probably pull it out,~ Scheur answers. She studies the object, trying to figure out what it is. Wedged behind the reactor is, well, what could only be described as a strong box... A strong box with wiring going into the back of the reactor. There's no flashing lights or any such thing on the box, and won't go boom or explode. "Callot," Lucius addresses Dirionis once he's back at the aft section of the Triumph. "I need you to go page a superior. Preferably Lieutenant Lachance, but if you can't find him any Marine officer will do. Fuck it, any officer." Turning to Urf, he says, "Looks like we might have a traitor on our hands, Chief." Urfkgar looks over to try to figure out what the Vollistan is talking about before he repeats his favorite one word question at Lucius, "What?" He doesn't bother to wait on an answer, though, as he sets down his pulse assault rifle off to the side of the debris. After he eyeballs the object a bit longer, he produces a multi-purpose tool from a pocket. He checks to see if any wires are connected. If they are, they get cut. Then, the Zangali shrugs and yanks after putting the multi-purpose tool back up in his pocket. Dirionis turns his attention to Lucius, nodding. " Yes sir." He goes to one of the intercoms throughout the hangar. With a creak and the sound of grinding of metal on metal, Urfgkar finds himself as the owner of a brand new... Something? Engineering will be able to say what this welded up strong box is. Volouscheur looks around the area to see if she can spot anything else that the wreckage might be hiding, boosting the glow of her aura to give herself some more light to see by. Lucius simply removes the note he'd previously obtained from his pocket and unfolds it, reading the contents out to Urf. It doesn't matter that he's not sure if Urf will completely get the jive of it, the Martian does it anyways. "Looks like it can be reconstructed, too. Better hand it off to intelligence." The note recital gets a grunt from the Zangali. As far as the box thing goes, possession is ninety percent of ownership, and Urfkgar is quick to extend the box in the direction of Lucius with an explanation of, "Urf no want. Take all stuff stupid softskins care stupid grabass stuff." Dirionis starts heading back, an officer paged to come into the hangar immediately. Dirionis comes back, staring at the thing Urf had in his hand. Volouscheur pulls the flyer out and offers it to Lucius, ~Someone dropped this, too, Sarge - while they were walking past us. I didn't catch who it was, though.~ "What is that?" Asks Lucius, taking a look at the flyer briefly. His blue eyes scan over it in curiosity. :This flyer is written on an A4 piece of paper with no identifying marks, or anything that gives an author or place of creation. :Working people, why still slave :For men who ride you to the grave? :Why still toil, drip sweat, shed blood :For lords who tramp you in the mud? :Why still serve to those who shirk :The banquet flesh of you who work? :Why give away unbounded wealth :That geysers from your laboring self? :Galley-slaves of factory, :Why still forge in misery :Chains that bind your very life :To your foe in bitter strife? :Do you have leisure, peace of mind, :Unstressed love, food, shelter, time? :Or what is it your hard work buys :While unrest in your heart lies? :The cars you build you buy to drive; :The wealth you coin keeps rich alive; :The clothes you weave are sold to you :The guns you forge defend the few. :Build cars -- but build your strength to rise; :Coin wealth -- but also, organize; :Weave clothes -- and fighting network tight; :Forge guns -- to seize for your final fight! :Then build cars -- for working folk to keep; :Then coin wealth -- but let no rich man reap; :Then weave clothes -- delight in your struggles fruits; :Then forge guns -- lay low the lords in suits. The Zangali jabs the box in Dirionis's direction. He says, "Take thingy." Dirionis scratches his head and takes the box. " Uhmm...What am I holding here?" ~It's a flyer, sir,~ Scheur replies. ~I suspect that it was written by whoever's behind all this. So if we can find who dropped it...~ "That's evidence, Callot. You'll bring it up to Command when we leave. This, too, is evidence. Exibit number two." Asides Lucius, gently taking the flyer. "I'm going to get this handwriting analyzed. And see if these smudges can't be.. unsmudged. I'd like to know what else is written here. Urf, we've got a leak somewhere. If I were you I'd put the station on lockdown. Whoever wrote the flyer is on the station, I'd reckon. And so are the traitors." "Thingy," responds the Zangali quickly enough. It's fairly clear he has no idea what the strongbox looking item with the wires and what not is. It's also fairly evident that he doesn't much care. He just looks at Lucius and shrugs, pointing to the shuttle. He says, "Want go. Goededed." Dirionis nods and holds the box, glancing at the debris a moment, not saying anything. Volouscheur sighs softly, ~I'm going to go rest. I hope we find whoever it is behind this soon; this isn't good, for anyone.~ She adds, aura darkening to a mid-range blue, ~Why are they doing this?~ "Again, I'd pass it up the chain if I were you. Your call Chief." Lucius shrugs. To Scheur. "They don't like the way things are going on New Luna. Simple. They want change, now." The Zangali shrugs and points towards Lucius, Scheur, and Dirionis. He says, "No say stuff see here stupid stuff." Dirionis nods after looking at the object in his hands. " Yes sir." He says, yawning a little. Volouscheur nods quietly and then says again, ~I'm going to go rest, if I may, Sarge? Chief?~ Unless one of them insists that she stay here, she's going to start heading to the lobby, aura dimming to a marsh-glow around her. "Scram," announces Urfkgar as he pulls out his commlink. Lucius nods at Scheur. "Go ahead." He heads up towards the command corridor with all of the evidence gathered in hand, determined look on his face. Urfkgar snorts as he eyeballs the debris a bit longer. He wanders off towards the marines at the double doors.